<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Dining with Sinners by LittleMagpie</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645675">Dining with Sinners</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMagpie/pseuds/LittleMagpie'>LittleMagpie</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Although you could call that canon-typical too..., Canon-Typical Pining, If you could get them to admit it..., M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Phone Sex, Porn With Plot, Teasing, Voyeurism, gay old men in love</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 12:13:35</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,659</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25645675</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/LittleMagpie/pseuds/LittleMagpie</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Feed your god, or it will feed on you -- but there are sweeter ways to do so. Partnership has its benefits, even when your patrons are at odds.</p>
<p>Co-written with selkiebinch @ Tumblr - more chapters incoming, although this chapter is fine as a standalone as well.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Elias Bouchard/Peter Lukas</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>49</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Dining with Sinners</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>"We're coming into port soon," Peter Lukas murmured into the Tundra's only satellite phone, tucked away in his private cabin. His voice was low, sleepy, lulled by the gentle rock of the boat and the lapping of the waves against the ship's outside hull. It was so, so quiet. You could concentrate on your own breathing, your own heartbeat, in this sort of blissful, blanketed silence. The captain reveled in it, naturally, but all good things had to come to an end.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"British territory, I mean, though of course you already knew that," he continued, voice jovial and tinged with jesting. "That's why you called, right?"</span>
  <span>
    <br/>
  </span>
  <span>Peter's smile widened. Even through the phone, he could feel it, the ache within his husband. Elias was trying to play it off, would probably try to make it seem like he was 'simply checking up on him'. But no, nothing was ever that simple, that purposeless with Elias. Peter knew him all too well. He needed him close, by his side, to touch him, kiss him, lie beside him, talk to him, face to face. And while the thought of that made him recoil instinctively, something in the old sailor's heart found it rather endearing indeed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Tell me how much you miss me, little man," he chuckled, pushing his boundaries a bit. Elias always seemed to hold the reins of their relationship with all that damn clairvoyance. So why shouldn't he have a bit of fun?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alone in his posh bedroom, Elias was sitting on the edge of his big bed. The lights were turned down low, save one dim lamp on for illumination, and the folder full of documents he'd been working at was strewn on the other side of the bed. The pillows on his side were rumpled from his leaning on them, and the duvet was pulled back, the sheets crumpled under his arse. He was still wearing the same clothes he'd worn that day, but his shirt was half-buttoned; his tie had been abandoned somewhere across the room. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The other side of the bed was still pristine. The pillows were untouched, the blankets still smooth, and he sat with his phone cradled between ear and shoulder, slowly turning the heavy fountain pen in his fingers as he listened to the staticky voice in his ear. It felt sweet to hear it, and Elias was not in the business of lying to himself, least of all about that. Twisting and turning the truth until it screamed under the strain, yes, but lies were verboten. He was glad Peter couldn't see him as a faint, fond smile played at the corners of his lips and that sweet ache pulsed behind his ribs. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Of course I could see you coming, Peter," Elias murmured back, keeping a prim sort of teasing to his voice. It was a dance they'd been dancing for years -- or perhaps a fencing match. He moved in closer, Peter stepped back, and when he would step back, Peter would fill the space, and so it went. "And if it will make you feel better, I did miss you." He tried, and failed, to keep the warmth and teasing exasperation from his tone. "I'm quite sure it's </span>
  <em>
    <span>delicious</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It is, thank you," Peter laughed softly, a low, comforting sound that rumbled past the static of the phone call, sounding like distant thunder. "I would be remiss to say I didn't think about you, too, time to time. Are you watching?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a rhetorical question; of course he was. He had felt the all too familiar prickle of being watched since he had picked up the phone. Peter rubbed his eyes sleepily before putting two fingers to his lips and pulling them away, seeming to send the kiss up to the far reaches of unknown.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"That's for you, to tide you over till I get there. Unless you want something more physically stimulating?" He added with another mischievous grin. "God, I love when you're like this."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That thunder of laughter seemed to curl across the airwaves and settle somewhere next to that ache of what Elias was stubbornly not calling loneliness. But Peter was right, he was watching. The familiar sight of his face and the knowledge that he was closer now than he had been in a long time was bittersweet. The kiss, on the other hand, that was all sweetness, and it threw Elias off-guard whether he liked it or not — though he was fairly sure he liked it plenty.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“When I’m like what, exactly?” Elias found himself asking, leaning back against the pillows a bit and chuckling. “Sitting alone in my room, perhaps? You don’t know what I’m doing now, and I’m not going to tell you.” Now his tone had gone warm and playful. “Really, a little kiss and you think you have me pining.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was not lying, precisely, as long as he neither confirmed nor denied. Still, even just that voice over the phone after so long of nothing made him impatient with the distance between them. He set aside the pen in his hand with prim care and laid back. Somehow it was a little harder to hold his cards as close to his chest as he’d have liked to right now with the sight of that grin bright in his mind’s eye.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You sound composed enough, so I don't think you're doing anything lewd. Who, my Elias Bouchard, calling me all the way out at sea for a sexual favor?" The conversation flowed out so easily and Peter found himself having a good bit of fun. It was always interesting to parry with him like this. Of course, if he was being honest with himself, Elias was in one of his rare soft moods and was going easy on him. He was the one with the silver tongue and could cut anyone down with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You can see, but you can't feel, can you? Let me paint you a picture. I know how you like that. The sea's calm right now. It's lulling me, gently rocking. It's going to be so odd to get my land legs again, sleep somewhere stationary."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As the captain spoke, he began to take off one article of clothing after another. He had already neatly stowed his Captain's hat and coat, along with his boots. Next came his thick sweater, which he took great pleasure in taking off a bit too slowly, revealing his bare, burly arms, thick with dark steely gray hair. Next to be revealed were his broad masculine shoulders and clavicle. Underneath the sweater was a simple white undershirt, obscuring his husband's mind's view of his chest and abdomen. He settled back into bed, a coy little smile quirking his lips, hands on his belt buckle daringly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"It's strangely warm in my cabin. Probably because we're farther south now. You know, I was honestly about to settle down for some shut eye before you rang. Never a moment's rest, eh?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias almost opened his mouth to deny that he'd called for anything at all, to pretend he could remain aloof to the image of Peter alone in his room, the way he stripped slowly down -- he bit his tongue to stop it from doing anything to jeopardize this. "No," Elias said, and he kept his voice steady, playful; still, he knew his husband knew him well enough to catch the slight edge of breathlessness as his far-seeing gaze ran voraciously over what had been revealed. "No rest for the wicked, my dear Peter. But at least I don't think this task is so wretched, do you?" The fingers of one hand absently began to undo the buttons of his shirt, one by one, sliding them smooth and soundless through the buttonholes until the crisp fabric fell away over his own undershirt and he laid his hand across his own belly, fingers curved in the attitude of relaxation, even if he wasn't truly relaxed. The sight of Peter after so long apart had the effect of making him want more, faster, closer -- all the things that if Elias insisted on, he'd sour the moment. Patience, he reminded himself, was one of the few virtues he still had left to him. "You know what it does to me, after all."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"No, not a chore at all. Like I said, you crossed my mind. I enjoy when you reach out to me like this," Peter replied, any teasing edge to his voice gone, easy-going and sincere. That, however, didn't last as he pulled his undershirt up by the hem from his hips, to his belly, to his waist, to his massive pecs, and finally over his head. He smiled cheekily to himself, knowing Elias was watching intently, and placed a large hand on his waist, feeling the coarse hairs as he trailed down to his belt, both hands resting there now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I </span>
  <em>
    <span>do </span>
  </em>
  <span>know what it does to you. I know what it's doing to you now. Say, Elias?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulled down at the trousers a bit, revealing his thick hip bones and the tantalizing dip that led to the groin, showing a much thicker, coarser hair starting to peek out from the waistband.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Let's play a little game. I'll say what I would do to you if you were here, with me, right now. And you say what you would do in turn. Sound good?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The breath left Elias' chest in a rush as he watched Peter bare skin to him, and he licked his lips, one hand cradling the phone against his ear. The other itched to touch, to card through those crisp hairs down to the skin, as he'd done so many times before. The thrill never faded, or perhaps Peter was gone often enough to keep Elias kindled for him, but one way or another he greedily coveted the idea, finding himself at a loss for words. Perhaps it had been a mistake to call when the need for intimacy was so raw in his chest -- he was well-practiced at quelling it, but it wasn't working tonight. His own hand trailed down to his beltline as well, curving across the expensive leather and slipping it from the buckle in a smooth slither. He gave his response a moment so that the urgency wouldn't show so keenly in his voice. "Of course. This is one of my favorite games," Elias said smoothly, and he prided himself on the steadiness of it, though whether he liked it or not a little huskiness crept in. "Enlighten me, Peter -- what exactly would you do to me, if I were there?" He absently toyed with the button of his work slacks, savoring the anticipation. “Inquiring minds wish to know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter stifled a chuckle at the feeling of </span>
  <em>
    <span>raw ache</span>
  </em>
  <span> pooling through the phone, both sexual and heartfelt. Good. That meant he was doing his job.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a delicious meal, one he hadn't intended on having upon retiring to his quarters, but one he relished nonetheless. He only wished he could be there in person to truly savor it, but well...he doubted the ache would be as fresh and potent if he didn't have him stewing like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Perfect. Well, Elias, I imagine now you couldn't keep your hands off, unless I'm mistaken? I'd tell you to wait, and you would tell me to go to hell or something along those lines and keep at it. I would give in because I love you and seeing your patience finally breaking."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>As Peter talked he felt his own patience dwindling as his trousers became much too tight, tenting noticeably. But he had to prolong this ache. Elias thrived on making him do whatever he wanted. Bossy little bastard man. It was his turn.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'd tilt your head up by the chin and lean in, ravaging you with kisses. The lips, the jawline, the neck. Oh, I love your slender neck, love," He added with a tender chuckle, though it was laced with want. "Then I'd start nipping, gentle at first, but then firmer biting, more deliberate, more...frenzied, I suppose. You do that to me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighed, breaking, unbuckling the belt and quickly pulling the trousers off, throwing them to the floor in a heap. His plain boxer briefs were straining and he began to rub himself through the fabric.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Now. What would you do, Elias?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias would never admit to being speechless. In all his storied career, he could count the number of times he'd been struck genuinely wordless on both his hands, but as Peter spoke, the desire grew until for a moment his throat felt too full for words, and he bit his lip. He could almost feel that mouth against his skin, almost, like a ghost of what could be, and he let out a little breath, goosebumps prickling up his spine as his mind's gaze followed Peter's hands, watched his pants crumple on the floor, and when Peter's hand found himself, Elias himself bit back a little noise of denied desire as he pushed one hand up under his own undershirt. His own touch wasn't going to be enough, not right now, but he thought he might combust if someone didn't touch him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Very nice, Peter," he managed, stroking one hand up over the well-maintained smoothness of his own belly, his fingers cool against the insulated warmth of his own skin. "Mmm, you know me so well, darling." The endearment was warm, prim, teasing, and it helped to hide the little noise as he thumbed one nipple lazily, tweaking the glittering barbell through it until it made his thighs tense in pleasured response. "You know how demanding I can get. I can be patient, but never for you, not when you've got me fired up like that." He chuckled softly, huskily. "I'd try to rub against you, anything I could do to get more of you against me. But you're entirely too big, so I know I'd feel you against my belly. I may not like feeling small next to anyone else, but in this situation..." Just the thought of that firm ridge of cock pressed against his body made him shudder again. "In this situation, I quite like it." He was smiling into the phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"What I do next would depend on whether I could get you to sit for me, or whether you'd make me beg for you. What do you think, Peter? Would you prefer me kneeling, or sitting in your lap?" His voice had gone a little breathless. "I'll have both by the end of the night if I get my way."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'd allow you to crawl into my lap, love. I'd quite enjoy that right now, actually," Peter breathed as he palmed himself, a small stain of pre beginning to bloom on the taut undergarments. "I'd want you rutting against me like the slut you are. I need that friction. I want you to feel me, feel how I want you. Your hands would already be grasping at my briefs, wouldn't they? You'd demand I take them off, and I would oblige after some more necking and feeling your pretty, smooth back, your chest. I would put you on the bed for a moment--" Peter raised his haunches, finally, graciously pulling down the last thing covering him. His nearly erect thick cock popped out and he began palming it even more fervently, breath hitching in pleasure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You would whine in protest, I bet, but then I'd lean over to tweak your nipple. You love that. You're probably already messing with them now, aren't you? I'd lavish you with my tongue and you would croon in delight. Then I'd grab you by the hair and arse and scoop you back up. I'd rock at you--"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He was grinning maliciously at this point.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"We would grind against each other like we were compelled by some animal instinct. Like we were thoughtless horny young men again. I'd give your hair another tug, and I bet you would keen, yes, you'd like that. Perhaps you'd give a growl of defiance," The captain purred. "What would you demand from me next? What would you do?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias' head fell to one side against the pillow, rumpling his usually-well-ordered auburn waves, and he was glad of the moment's distance to muffle the sound that escaped him -- it was almost a moan, just on the edge of one. The sight of Peter's cock made his mouth water, made need flush through him and settle, hot and liquid, down in the cradle of his hips. He could almost imagine, leaned back alone in his bed, that Peter's broad weight was pressing down atop him, bearing his body down into the deep, soft mattress, lifting his hips, filling the space between his legs and </span>
  <em>
    <span>grinding</span>
  </em>
  <span> -- </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"God, Peter," Elias said, voice cracking softly, and he tugged his hand from under his undershirt, reaching it across the space between the bed and the table beside. His sight was too busy, too focused on Peter, and he groped a little before he found the posh little container of lubricant, too fancy and expensive to be practical in any way, and fumbled it back over to himself. "I'd rock and twist against you until I couldn't bear not having you in me anymore," he breathed, and finally undid the button of his slacks. His own cock ached, untouched thus far, and his brief fine undergarments were strained against it. He did not bother with it beyond a lingering caress and a swallowed sigh. "I'd demand you put fingers in me. You know me, love." His lips curved in a grin as he coated the first two long fingers on one hand with the lubricant. "You've ruined me for anyone else's touch. Nothing else fills me up like you do." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Still, he was damned sure going to try, and he braced one sock-clad heel in the bedsheets as he lifted his hips, pushing that messy hand down between his legs to tease slick fingers around his hole. "You're so much more patient than I am when it comes to this part. You know I'd rush you, like I always do. As long as you give me what I want, though, the rest of me's at your disposal. I'll be gracious that way."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Aww, how touching. You soft old bodyhopper. That means so much to me," Peter cooed with a breathy laugh, massaging at the tip of his cock in languid swirls, not wanting to spoil the fun too quickly. "You've probably slept around with so many people in different forms before I met you. But I'm the best one? </span>
  <em>
    <span>My my</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Elias." He gave a hearty belly laugh at that. This man, this man...he undid him. He was so close, so in his head, and if he weren't so hard and foggy-headed it would probably unnerve him. He usually wasn't this… </span>
  <em>
    <span>loquacious</span>
  </em>
  <span> when getting intimate with Elias. Had he somehow Compelled him without his notice? Damn Eye. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"You probably said that to all the dapper gents who bedded you, didn't you? You demanding whore. Are you just playing me like you always do?" </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He began rubbing himself out more fervently again, his hand getting slick with the precum beading up at the head. "Perhaps I'm not thinking, mm, clearly anymore. You'd love that. You'd tease me mercilessly and say I wouldn't, wouldn't be able to snap back. I'd say your mouth is better used in other places. And I'd reach for the lube in the bedside counter and coat my fingers. I would kiss you greedily and slowly slip one finger into you. Then another, a bit too quickly. You love my thick fingers, don't you? Your prim little fingers can't get you off with justice right now. Poor little man." </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He barked a laugh again, inhaling deeply at the feeling of such </span>
  <em>
    <span>pining loneliness</span>
  </em>
  <span> that crept through the phone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A hot flush curled up into Elias' cheeks despite himself, and he swallowed hard, licking his lips, and he couldn't stop the hoarse little breaking sound that escaped him as he pushed a finger inside himself, his cock trapped between his body and his arm. The other hand rose, cradling the phone against his ear, wanting more of that voice, his focus on the Eye wavering, though he held tightly to it. He was unwilling to give up the sight of Peter, the </span>
  <span>way</span>
  <span> that hand moved on the cock he so dearly wanted for himself, however he could get it. "Mmh... hah, sure, I've had plenty," he said, trying to keep his voice steady as he writhed luxuriantly. "But -- not since you, and you know I don't lie." He laughed, and another finger joined the first, roughly. He'd regret it later if there was regret to be done, because Peter was right. His own fingers didn't scratch the itch of need. Downsides, he thought, of this body. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, but you brought up -- hah, you brought up my mouth in other places, Peter," he reminded him, working those fingers inside himself, grinding his cock against his arm, the fabric crinkling uselessly. "I'd remind you about the last time you let me suck your cock. Remember how -- f-ff --" His voice crackled with sensation, and he tried again valiantly. "Remember how I struggled, until you put your hand in my hair and helped, darling? I still think of that, too..." He was coming a little undone, now, having lost focus on the game they were playing until he brought himself strictly back in line. "But, Peter, by the time you'd got three of those fingers inside me I'd be demanding for you to fuck me." He arched in bed, his arm trembling with effort. "Or maybe, if I thought it would get me what I want, I'll even indulge you with a little begging. Please, Peter," he breathed, turning his head to breathe this directly into the phone's receiver with his voice heavy with shameless lust, "please. I need you..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter practically choked on the saliva gathering in his open mouth at that. He was shocked speechless. Begging. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Begging</span>
  </em>
  <span>! When was the last time Elias had openly begged for him? He, like Peter, tended to keep everything under a firm, tight lid. But not now, the captain thought with an inward laugh of triumph. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh, love. Oh, my sweet Elias, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>wretched thing</span>
  </em>
  <span>," He purred, the hint of utter endearment still very clear behind his breathy need. "Of </span>
  <em>
    <span>course</span>
  </em>
  <span> I would oblige you with my cock. If I could be there right now, I'd fuck you senseless. Alas, this is all we have. I'd get into position quickly, and, and," He licked his lips, face flushed, words a jumble in his mind. "I'd shove it in you, slowly, and you would throw your head back, your toes curling. You love feeling so full. And then I would pull back and out before slamming back in and we would, mm, we would get into a rhythm. But I can't have all the fun. Would you want to ride me? Or are you comfortable being my plaything for now?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias was panting a little, tight little self-contained sounds of need, and he licked his lips again, absorbing the words and the fantasy like a man starved. "Hah... mm, I'll be your toy for awhile," he almost purred, "because I know I'll finish first. And besides, darling... I love feeling you above me. I like feeling -- ah, I like feeling you pin me down and open me up wide, after all, especially when you've been gone so long. I want it rough and deep, like you're trying to climb inside me. But I want to ride, too. So you'd better not cum 'til I'm ready for you," he demanded, breathlessly fucking himself on his own hand. If it hadn't been for the muffling of his slacks and the distance from the phone, the messy slick sounds would have echoed over the line. "I'm greedy... want all of you inside me for as long as you'll let me..." His focus wavered, and he had to pause a moment, tantalizingly close but unsatisfied with his own fingers. "Fuck," he whispered, genuine frustration and heat in his voice.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I'm flattered, love, but, hah, I think you're overestimating me. How much you drive me wild. Ah, it's, wanting me… t-to keep talking, damn, walked into this one," Peter swore, cursing himself for his folly. He could definitely feel the words being pulled from him now, as he really just wanted to shut up and listen to Elias' little gasps and beautiful voice more. "Elias. It's hard to think right now. It wants me to keep telling you."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Saying that much proved difficult, and he could feel the familiar start of a headache from refusing a compulsion.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Haven't I told you enough, now, dear? Allow me a break, if you'd be so kind." He tried to keep it sounding casual, anything but begging, but it came out strained and he just needed friction and quiet. "I want to hear </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias swallowed hard, and he laughed, the usual shameless richness hoarse and breathless. "Ah... ah, I can hear the strain in your voice, Peter," he breathed, "do you think it's easier to yearn for you for months? But I'll release you if you say </span>
  <em>
    <span>please</span>
  </em>
  <span> for me, darling..." He had as many fingers inside himself as he could on the one hand, and yet it wasn't enough, would never be enough -- but he thought he could make it enough if he could hear that word from Peter, just once. "Then I'll spill my dirty little secrets for you. I'll make it worth it..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter nodded, not willing to put up a fight and not sure if Elias was focused enough to be able to still see it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, he did as he asked, giving a low, "Fine," before sighing a lusty, "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Please</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Elias, release me. I want to focus on my own body. Now speak to me."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The delivery could have been more gracious, but Elias let the compulsion slide off Peter with a pleasurable sound of relief at being able to focus all his attention on watching without compelling, and on pleasuring himself. "That wasn't so hard, was it, love?" he purred breathlessly. "I love when you say my name, you know. To know you're focused on me entirely, to have all of your attention on me... maybe I've become an exhibitionist as well as a voyeur in my old age." He sighed this out hotly, and then, half-sitting up, he forced his fingers deeper, hooking them to touch that spot inside himself that made him see stars. "Ah, f-fuck -- ah, that's why I like riding you... I just want your eyes on me, Peter. I want you to -- ah, I want you to want me, too, to look at me, to watch my eyes while I fill myself up to bursting with you..." He spoke with relentless, hot certainty, gripping his phone in one hand and grinding himself down punishingly into his own hand. He had toys, but he didn't want to stop long enough to switch, though it would have been more satisfying inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Exhibitionism wouldn't surprise me in the slightest</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Peter thought as he listened intently, more able to focus on his own needs. He nestled the phone in the crook of his neck to free the other hand, tweaking and pinching at a nipple as he continued to stroke himself off. He grinned, hearing Elias close to reaching his crescendo, the warmth in his lower belly spurring him on. Even if it was difficult, he'd tease him a bit more, just to get him over the edge. He growled out the words slowly, with purpose.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes, I'd have you speared, mm, on my cock. I love coming inside of you. I love feeling your belly afterwards, so full. Hah, you going to come now, Elias? I think you want to. I think you should, mess up your bed, like the slut you are."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias wanted to keep talking, wanted to keep adding fuel to the fire — but his words wouldn’t come. He angled himself just so, and began to move in full earnest, his head full of memories and fantasies both. The need was acute by now, a fever pitch of lust that left little room for anything else. He made short, sharp little noises as he moved against his own hand, spurred on by Peter’s urging. “Nh — Peter,” he panted, and then his voice was swallowed up in a breathless, lewd little moan as he came. “Y — ah, yes...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Peter gave Elias a moment to collect himself, slowing his own pace. He was a patient man, even in the heat of the moment, but he knew his husband was currently seeing stars, breathing raggedly. Besides, if he waited, he'd be able to listen to his teasing, perhaps even some cruel jeering, depending on how Elias was feeling. He chuckled. "Feeling all right now?" before he picked up the pace on his own erection once more. "Y-you, make a mess on yourself? On your bed? You </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span>, didn't you? Haha..."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once he could speak again Elias let out a breathless chuckle, retrieving his hand from his slacks and eyeing it ruefully, his fingers cramping and aching from his own overenthusiasm. “Fortunately,” he hummed, voice heavy with lingering pleasure, “I never made it out of my clothes.” He wrinkled his nose at the feel of his own fluids sticking his briefs to him. “You do that to me, too. Mmm, but you’re still busy. I could tell it in your voice even if I wasn’t still watching you. Tell me, Peter,” he said, voice warm as he focused his metaphysical gaze on his husband again, though he was careful to keep the compulsion out of it. “Did you like listening to me cry your name when I finished? Was it... satisfying for you to know I wanted your cock instead of my fingers, did you like knowing I won’t be satisfied until you’re here?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Oh?" The thought that Elias had come in his pristine work slacks sent a new wave of pleasure rolling through his body, right to his groin. "Th-that's incredible, too. I, I couldn't make you wait, hmm?"</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He nodded, hanging on to every word, feeling his abdomen giving that tell-tale sign of tensing without being able to stop. Yes, yes, Elias wanted him so badly. Elias felt so very alone. Elias yearned, and ached, and if only Peter could be inside him right now. He craved the tightness and just thinking about it drove him to the edge.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Fuck, Elias," he groaned, hips thrusting involuntarily as he came, splattering all over himself. But in that blissful haze he found he could care </span>
  <em>
    <span>less</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sound of Peter’s voice, even distant over the phone, as he finished made another delicious little shudder ripple through Elias as he hummed in sympathy with that groan. Even though he’d just come, it brought a pleasant, lazy warmth back to his belly. “There now,” he sighed, cradling the phone between ear and shoulder as he cleaned his hand with a tissue, “that sounded </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>good for you.” There was a tone of lazy indulgence — if Elias had come undone over the phone for Peter before, he was well-reassembled now. Peter didn’t need to know the sight of him covered in his own seed made Elias’ mouth water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"Yes...mm, it was," Peter found himself gradually answering as he began to come down from cloud nine again. He blinked, trying to focus, and was reminded that he was exhausted. "Damn...I suppose you're happy with making me so careless, hmm? I feel you staring, Elias. Give me a moment." The captain pushed himself up by his forearms and got up, perfectly fine walking around his own cabin in the nude. He made it </span>
  <em>
    <span>quite</span>
  </em>
  <span> clear he was not to be disturbed once he had retired. He walked over to the washroom, shaking his head at his own folly when he looked in the mirror. Damn him, he had allowed himself to look like a fool for his husband again. Well, a fool in love, but still a fool. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>"I can practically feel you smirking," he sighed, splashing some water on his chest and belly and rinsing off the remnants of their </span>
  <em>
    <span>eager</span>
  </em>
  <span> conversation. "This is for you, for keeping me up." He knew Elias couldn't hear him from in here, but he could still perceive what was going on, and Peter gave a falsely jovial smile before flipping him off, right in front of where he assumed Elias was looking out from: his own eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>With that out of the way, he returned to bed, picking up the phone once more. "I'll see you soon, you bastard man. Thank you for the surprise. I do need to rest now, though." The feelings of needing to isolate and cut the call began to outweigh the feelings of showering his husband with attention. He needed to be alone once more. He would have nothing but his company and roaming hands soon enough. "Goodnight. Please take care."</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Elias’ laugh echoed, deeply entertained, down the phone line. The sounds of his bedroom had changed, and there came the soft </span>
  <em>
    <span>hsst</span>
  </em>
  <span> as the shower came on. “Thank you, Peter, for indulging me,” he said, his smugness softening just a little, his tone sweetening as he leaned one hand on the bathroom counter, looking into the vanity mirror at himself and pretending he didn’t see the slight wistful tilt of his brows or the softness in his still-flushed face. He blinked, breaking the view he had of Peter, and did not re-establish it. “I’ll see you soon, darling. Rest well.” He went quiet, but he’d wait — as he always did — for Peter to hang up first.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>